


Lies Told on the Wind

by Homicidal Whispers (HomicidalWhispers)



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-03
Updated: 2013-08-03
Packaged: 2017-12-22 08:24:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/911023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HomicidalWhispers/pseuds/Homicidal%20Whispers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You know, don’t you? That Armin’s…” He lets his words trail off in embarrassment, hoping that Eren would understand without him having to continue.<br/>“That what?” Eren asks. He can hear the frown in his voice. “That  he likes  guys? Yeah, I know that.”<br/>“No, not that. I mean kind of that, but it’s not what I meant.” Connie takes a deep breath and spits out the words. “That he’s into you, I mean.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lies Told on the Wind

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [the truth about the flower boys](https://archiveofourown.org/works/909090) by [sodas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sodas/pseuds/sodas). 



It’s not a secret that Eren and Armin are always all over each other. It’s kind of pitiful in a way; Eren doing all he can to help his friend and Armin, appreciative but stifled under all of the attention. It’s a kind of dance they have. Eren gives him more and more; Armin struggles to find the balance between what he can accept and what is too much.

It’s bad enough as it is. But then Armin falls sick and Eren absolutely freaks. It’s not even anything serious, just a little flu that’s been making its way through the trainees. It doesn’t stop Eren from hovering, though, from forcing Armin into bed at night, or from going directly to the nurse to get him time off of training. His hands constantly flutter on Armin’s skin, checking for a fever. Connie watches Eren shovel food off of his plate and onto the blonde’s, watches Armin struggle to accept it, and can’t understand it.

Eren and he have a shift of night watch together. Most people take this as an opportunity to slack off; it’s not like a Titan will come this far into the interior of the walls with no warning, after all. But Eren’s upright, his posture stiff. There’s not a hint of drowsiness on his features, but his hands clench and unclench and his eyes flicker back to the bunks far too often. Connie can tell he’s thinking about Armin, whom he had tucked into bed with an extra blanket from Eren’s own cot only a few minutes ago.

“Why do you mother hen him so much?” Connie asks him. Eren somehow manages to go even more rigid, but Connie won’t back down. “You treat him with little kid gloves.”

Eren turns to look at him. Connie wonders what it is that he sees, but whatever it is, it prompts him to talk. “When we were really young, back before I ever met Mikasa,” he starts, “Armin got really sick. Pneumonia at first, then bronchitis. His parents were on a scouting mission and his grandfather was too old to give him the care he needed.”

His voice is pitched low, so quiet that Connie has to lean in to hear it. He rolls his shoulder absently and continues, “He pretty much lived at my house for a while. My dad was a doctor, but he was away, so I did everything I could think of to help him get better. He almost died,” he admits. “We thought he was going to die.”

“But he didn’t,” Connie points out awkwardly. “And this isn’t like that, you know that, don’t you? It’s just the flu. He’ll be fine in a few days.”

“I know!” Eren snaps. “And I know I need to stop babying him. He’s not a kid anymore, he doesn’t need protecting.”

“I bet he got bullied a lot as a kid, huh?”

“Yeah,” he admits and laughs a little, a sound that comes out more hopeless than truly amused. “It got better once we met Mikasa.”

Eren sits, finally, not too far away from Connie, but not that close either. Connie lets his gaze sweep around the distance to avoid looking directly at him. He should let the conversation drop. This would be a natural place to end things, wouldn’t it? But Connie’s always been a bit too open for his own good. “You know, don’t you? That Armin’s…” He lets his words trail off in embarrassment, hoping that Eren would understand without him having to continue.

“That what?” Eren asks. He can hear the frown in his voice. “That  he likes  guys? Yeah, I know that.”

“No, not that. I mean kind of that, but it’s not what I meant.” Connie takes a deep breath and spits out the words. “That he’s into you, I mean.”

A silence stretches out between them, so deep that Connie wonders if it’s that Eren didn’t hear him or if he’s being purposefully ignored. He sees Eren’s fingers dig into the dirt. “Yeah,” he says long moments later. “I know that, too.”

“Okay,” he says, elongating the word in his mouth. “So what do you think about that?”

“He thinks I don’t know,” Eren says. He’s not answering the question, but Connie can tell that the avoidance isn’t purposeful by the furrow in his brow; he’s distracted. He’s caught up in his own train of thought, jumping to places that Connie can’t see and leaving him behind. “As if I couldn’t tell. I’m not _that_ stupid. He’s my best friend; I know him too well to not know how he’s feeling.”

He looks so very alone in that moment. Suddenly, Connie can see what he hasn’t been able to before; that Eren needs his friends just as much they need him. It’s so easy to forget. Eren’s passion and drive is bright like a burning star, like the sun, and Armin and Mikasa are like the planets orbiting him. Except that’s not really it. Eren’s more like a planet, fixed into orbit following his ambitions, and his friends are the moons. A planet needs its moons just as much as it needs its sun.

Eren almost seems to have forgotten his presence. Connie can see that he doesn’t need a friend to talk to right now; he needs a soundboard at which to throw his thoughts. That’s fine. Connie can become that. “How do you feel about him?”

“I love him. Of course I do,” he says, cradling his arms around his knees. It’s more vulnerable than Connie’s ever seen him before. “But I don’t know that I love him the way he wants me too.”

“No one said anything about love,” Connie reminds him. Eren turns to look at him like he thinks he’s stupid. “But fine. What’re you worried about? That you won’t be able to kiss another guy? Touch him?”

Eren flinches back. “I don’t want to get his hopes up.”

“Only to realize you can’t deliver,” Connie finishes. He takes yet another deep breath and exhales it into a sigh, reminding himself that he’s the one who started this conversation. He’ll damn well finish it. “Have you thought about doing that stuff?”

“Sometimes,” Eren admits after a pause.

“If a person can imagine something, they can usually do it,” he says. “Here’s the way I see it. Armin doesn’t think you know, so he’ll never say anything. It’s up to you. So either you never say anything, and there’s no chance anything will happen. Or, you say something, and you try, and there’s a chance it could work out.”

Eren doesn’t answer. He remains silent for the rest of the watch but when Connie glances towards him, there’s a considering look on his face. Connie leans back onto his hands, satisfied with what he’s done. It was a long and excruciating conversation, to be sure; how often do you help a friend through a situation like that? Still, he feels like he’s done well.

Armin gets better within a couple of days, just like Connie had known he would, and Eren relaxes the mollycoddling to a more manageable level. Sometimes, Connie catches that same considering look on Eren’s face when he looks at Armin, when he doesn’t think that Armin is paying attention. At the very least, he’s taking this decision seriously.

Perhaps two weeks after Armin’s fully recovered, Connie’s sent to the storage room to retrieve new harnesses after a rainy day rusts over several pairs. He spots Eren first, and then he sees Armin, pressed into the wall. They’re kissing and hands are wandering. He’s happy that Eren got over himself and put an end to the pining that was getting so hard bear with. He’s happy for them, but that still doesn’t tell him how he’s going to get inside the storeroom.

He hears one of them make a breathless noise, tries hard to unsee Eren’s hands dipping into Armin’s pants, and contemplates how he got himself into a mess like this. 

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this to be a continuation of sorts of this wonderful fic (http://archiveofourown.org/works/909090). I imagine it takes place about a week after that one.  
> Please go read that! It was really very amazing and I can only hope I did it justice.


End file.
